“Who’s messaging you at two in the morning?” the husband asked. The wife turned her screen toward him—and his face went pale.

In the complete silence of the room, the phone emitted a short beep, illuminating the ceiling with a cold blue light. It was two in the morning. Larisa carefully reached for the nightstand, trying not to disturb her husband, but Viktor had already propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes wide open. “Who writes…